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Dressing for the Occasion

By Mary Miley Theobald

When Franklin D. Roosevelt
paid a visit to Colonial Williamsburg in October of 1934, he had good
reason to keep his eye on the ladies. Welcoming the President that autumn
day were six costumed hostesses splendidly dressed for the occasion in
colonial style gowns. Yards of colorful, crisp fabric draped over wide
hoops rustled softly as the ladies watched the President's touring car
motor down the Duke of Gloucester. The height of fashion from two centuries
past had returned to the colonial capital. FDR was charmed.

He wasn't the only one. On
the strength of that visit, Colonial Williamsburg's Vice-President Kenneth
Chorley approved the manufacture of costumes for all hostesses, beginning
what was – then and now – the largest museum costuming operation in the
country.

It could only have been a matter of weeks before the romance faded and cold reality set in. How
were the lovely costumes to be maintained? Who would launder them properly?

A local dry cleaner cleaned the first ones “so badly that it was still doubtful whether the collars
and cuffs could ever be used again,” lamented one report.

Who would repair that torn hem? Who would alter them when one hostess left the job and another was
hired? And what about comfort? The warm winter gowns would not be suitable when summer arrived.

What were the ladies to wear to work in cold or rainy weather–their own coats or rain gear atop
their colonial attire?

When it became obvious that costuming a tour guide was more complicated than stitching up a dress,
a permanent in-house costume department was proposed. Mrs. H.G. Cooley, the local seamstress
who had sewed the first gowns in her home on Jamestown Road, agreed to become
its supervisor. The cost per dress was pegged at $30.00.

Over the next few months, an enthusiastic Chorley added gaolers, janitors, coachmen, laundry and
kitchen workers, and waiters to the list of employees who would work in costume.

“It would seem inconsistent to omit the costumes of the period which, after all, were one of the most
colorful and important adjuncts to the life of that day. . . Williamsburg has a wider
scope than that of being an architectural and historical Restoration. Other
phases of eighteenth-century life, as well as the historical events and the
buildings in which they occurred, played an important part.”

Chorley backed his words with action. In less than two years, 53 employees were wearing costumes and
two seamstresses and two laundresses were busy serving them.

“In the past, costuming in this country has been more for effect than for accuracy,” Chorley wrote.
It would not be that way at Colonial Williamsburg. “The Restoration has made
a careful study of old costumes, prints, portraits, and records dealing with
18th century dress both in this country and abroad in order that the costumes
worn in the Exhibition Buildings should be accurate in every possible detail.”

To back up the costume program, Curator James Cogar began purchasing articles of antique clothing to
use as models.

The new costume department
was located in the stables at the Governor's Palace. For many years an effort
was made to incorporate the sewing and laundering into the other activities
performed before the public. Some of the costumes were laundered the old way
and hung outside on lines to dry. The debate on ironing–whether to use electric
irons behind the scenes or the old style flatirons before the public–raged
for years.

The Second World War intervened.
Rationing made textiles scarce and for almost a year, the costume operation
shut down entirely. Existing costumes wore out and could not be replaced.

After the war, the craft shops
reopened and waiters were put back into costume. A tailor joined the rehired
seamstresses and the whole operation moved to the rooms above the Margaret
Hunter Millinery Shop. As new buildings opened to the public and programs
grew, more demands were placed on the men and women who sewed. For the
first time children were added to the list of costumed personnel and so
were maids, coachmen, concert players, militiamen, and play actors, bringing
the total number of people costumed in 1952 to around 230.

As if they didn't have their
hands full sewing clothing, the seamstresses and tailors were regularly
asked to perform other needlework tasks. They repaired worn carpets, the
tapes on Venetian blinds, the flag that flew over the Capitol, and table
coverings. They made curtains for the stage, sewed slipcovers, and embroidered
fabric for one of the coaches. And by 1968 they were producing clothing
for 533 individuals.

The trend toward synthetic
fabrics in the sixties brought with it a problem: fewer natural fabric
options. A decision to focus the clothing styles on the 1760s and 1770s
instead of the 1740s made it necessary to replace the widest side hoops
with a more moderate bulge or none at all. It was credible colonial dress
but not terribly authentic by today's standards. There was no attempt
to use stays and the synthetic fabric colors were not true to the eighteenth
century.

Preparations for the Bicentennial brought concerns about the cost of costuming all the extra personnel necessary
to handle the anticipated crowds. As an experiment, red, white, and blue
polyester knit suits were ordered for the summer hostesses in 1973.

“It was a disaster,” recalls Peter A. G. Brown, retired vice-president. “Visitors were confused and
disappointed. `No thank you, dear, we'd like a real tour guide,' they would say to the hostesses.
We received a good bit of mail and many vocal complaints.”

Joe Jones, driving the Wythe chariot, pauses in front of Bruton Parish Church to speak to African American character interpreters Robert M. Watson Jr.,
and Sylvia Lee. All three are costumed for their roles as urban household
slaves.

The experiment was abandoned at the end of the summer. The public had come to associate costumed
personnel so closely with Williamsburg that their experience was seriously devalued without
them.

With the eighties came an increased emphasis on authenticity throughout Colonial Williamsburg and the
costume department was no exception. More research into primary documents such
as the clothing descriptions in runaway slave ads added immeasurably to the
body of knowledge surrounding clothing, colors, and wearing habits. No longer
would any plain black shoe or one's own modern eyeglasses suffice. Standards
of appearance tightened. Formal balls and assemblies, more children, and a variety
of special events necessitated many new sorts of clothing. Interpreters portraying
characters in court trials, funerals, and weddings needed accurate clothing
beyond what had been contemplated for tour guides, craftspeople, and waiters.

Finding correct fabrics
remains a continuing challenge. Good solids are relatively plentiful; authentic
prints are not. The Costume Design Center relies on reproduction drapery and
upholstery fabrics but often the large scale of the print will not translate
to wearing apparel. Good silks are available but at $100 a yard or more. When
a dress takes ten or more yards of material, silk can break the budget. Only
natural fibers--silk, cotton, linen, and wool--are used, with the rare synthetic
exception made for an employee allergic to wool. “It is better for the appearance
of the costume and for the comfort of the employee to use the 100% natural fabrics,”
says Rick Hill, Manager of the Costume Design Center.

Today the Costume Design Center
employs 28 people, 23 of whom sew the clothing for 500 to 800 people.
“But remember,” cautions Hill, “many of those employees have more
than one position, for example, a craftsperson who also dances at Palace
balls and acts in a theater production requires two or even three types
of costumes. We count positions rather than people; there are about 1200
positions that we costume.”

A full-time employee has three to six outfits that are expected to last anywhere from one to ten
years. All in all, Hill estimates that his people make and maintain about 60,000 separate
clothing items. The inventory is tracked by computer.

The never-ending problem is the human one–growth. Fife and drum corps
members shoot up in sudden spurts, a tour guide gets pregnant, a craftsperson
loses weight. “With pregnancies,” explains Hill, “we can alter the dress
to a point, but then we use looser fitting clothing during the later months.”

To most people's surprise,
the shape of the human body has changed substantially since the eighteenth century.
In those days, women were corseted from childhood and, while these weren't the
very damaging stays of the nineteenth century, they did shape the body differently
by shaping the rib cage. A conical form was the ideal with the bust up, the
shoulder carriage back, and shoulders sloping downwards–a complete reversal
of the fashionable silhouette from then to now. To design an eighteenth-century
look on a twentieth century body is challenging, but Hill and his seamstresses
come close as anyone can.

In the last fifteen years they have tried to present a more authentic picture by developing stays. “I
doubt we will ever require the wearing of stays,” says Hill, “but
we are getting more volunteers all the time. About 125 women wear the
lightweight version called half-boned stays. They give a very good facsimile
of the period. . . very close.”

In the center's production room Terry Lyons lays out patterns for a pair of
breeches.

After fifty-five years of
being housed in hand-me-downs, the Costume Design Center found its permanent home
in a custom-made building just outside the Historic Area. On any given day,
the site bustles with activity as employees drop off or pick up costumes from
the laundry, stop in for fittings, or discuss repairs. There is a large storeroom
with bolts of silks, cottons, linens, and wools, and hundreds of buttons, buckles,
ribbons, laces, and trims. Not all costume accessories are made at the department:
shoes, for instance, are contracted from a Wisconsin company; stockings in appropriate
colors, mitts (fingerless gloves), and eyeglasses are made to specification
elsewhere. In the accessories room there are neckerchiefs, cravats, straw hats,
caps, aprons, muffs, pearls with ribbon ties, bows, and some jewelry.

The production room is divided into four main teams: men's, women's, children's, and maintenance. “We
specialize, but for special events like a new tour or for rush jobs, everyone overlaps and
pitches in.” Hill has been manager less than a year but he has seen costuming
from all sides. He held the costume research and design job for several years
and before that, he worked in costume himself, as the tailor in the Historic
Area craft shop.

Adept with needle and thread, Rick Hill, manager of
the Costume Design Center, knows clothing construction from every perspective. He formerly was
Colonial Williamsburg's tailor.

The R&D people at the Costume
Design Center study antique costumes and accessories every chance they
get. Nancy Glass, a veteran who has worked in costuming for over 30 years,
has traveled to museums like the Metropolitan in New York, the Los Angeles
County Museum of Art, the Valentine in Richmond, and the Royal Ontario
Museum to examine antique clothing and produce patterns from them.

A Costume Approval Board was established some years ago to act as a control for newly developed
costumes and accessories. They work with research and construction techniques,
examine primary sources such as period prints, portraits, antique garments,
diaries, and written descriptions, and they investigate the etiquette
of clothing, the when and how articles of clothing were worn. The Approval
Board also assists employees who want to supplement their wardrobe with
pieces of clothing or accessories they have made themselves.

What do they do with all the leftover costumes? Just as in the old days, articles of clothing are
used until they are literally worn out. Some are returned to the historic area in
the form of rags: the gunsmith shop and the powder magazine, for instance, use
rags to clean their guns.

Colonial Williamsburg's costume operation has a reputation that spans the globe. Nancy Glass recalls,
“Over the years, we have had many interns come to study with us and frequently
we are asked for help in setting up historical costume programs for other
museums. Most recently, museums from the Dominican Republic, Australia,
and South Africa have come to us for help and we are always glad to work
with them in any way we can.”

Everyone involved in historic clothing agrees, the difference between costume and historic clothing
is in the details. A theater costume can get away with synthetic fabric,
zippers, and less accuracy because it isn't meant to be seen up close.
The historical interpreters at Colonial Williamsburg come within inches
of hundreds of visitors a day. “Our biggest challenge,” says Hill, “is
to keep the entire person looking eighteenth century.”